Elementary, My Dear Wolvie, Elementary
by sweet-n-sassy928
Summary: They're at it again! The Professor has set up a murder mystery dinner party- and of course, Kitty, Rogue, Piotr and the Raging Cajun, Remy, are on the case. Romy. Kiotr.
1. He's Not Really Dead

**A/N: I do not own X-Men Evolution**

"This is stupid." Rogue murmured. She tore up a sourdough roll; crumbs flaked off the buttered chunk as she crammed it in her mouth.

"This is so awesome!" Kitty shrieked. The tassels on her vibrant red flapper dress bounced as she hopped into the seat next to her disgruntled Goth companion. A black 20's style headband cut across her brow, a scarlet feather standing straight up on the side of her head. Black fishnets clung to her slender legs. Rogue rolled her eyes- _Kitty _would_ be excited about this._

"Did they even really wear fishnets in the 20's?" Rogue pulled up one of the strings and snapped it.

A scowl descended on Kitty's bright crimson lips. "I was trying to look scandalous! You know, the whole flapper thing?" Kitty winked; Rogue rolled her eyes again (she had a feeling she'd be doing that quite a bit tonight). She smoothed her green satin dress (think Cyd Charisse, singing in the rain). Elbow length black satin gloves laid at the side of her plate.

When Remy and Piotr strolled into the dining hall, she had to hold in her laughter- they looked like twinsies: bow ties, white shirts, white jackets, black pants, polished black shoes; the only difference being that Pete's tie was black, and Remy's was red. Pete look very James Bond, while Remy just looked… like Remy.

"Well Ah'll be- it's the male Bobbsey twins." Rogue's eyes widened. A shy snicker lingered on Kitty's lips.

Remy adjusted his tie. "Well I'll be- a pair of flappers for a couple of willing young gentlemen," he winked.

"Ah'm not the hooker. She is," Rogue shrugged, going back to pecking at her roll.

"Hey!" Kitty blushed. "I resent that!" Her arms folded over her chest. "I'm just a flapper."

"So is dat a floozy that don't get paid?" Remy smirked. Piotr glared, hot light blush at his cheeks. Kitty stuck her tongue out at the obnoxious Cajun.

Remy sat by Rogue (naturally- he didn't have it in him to stay away) and Piotr by Kitty. Clean white fabric covered the long table. Elaborate silverware rested on both sides of crème, gold rimmed plates. Heavy crystal goblets sat diagonal to the round dishes. Salads and bread, butter and dressings, punch and lemonade were set in the center of the table. Up-beat jazz rolled from the speakers, and the dining hall bustled with lively mutant teens in vintage dress.

Bright red liquid swirled in Kitty's heavy cup. She, still blushing, took a long sip of the fluid. _Stupid Remy- if anyone here is a '_floozy_' it's him!_

"I think you look very nice," Pete said in his gentle Russian tinged voice.

A swallow of Hawaiian Punch caught in her throat. She coughed, slamming her hand to her chest several times. Her face turned as red as the juice- and she wasn't entirely sure that was from the lack of oxygen.

"I swear like, I'm not a floozy!" She gasped out, "Like, the only serious guy I've like, ever been with was Lance and oh my gosh, ew. We so like, totally never did more than kiss. Honest!" A gracious, amused smile settled on his features. Filled with chagrin over her paranoid babbling, she buried her face back in the cup, chugging like it held _La Agua de Vida_.

"Come on chèrie," Gambit coaxed. "Smile."

"Not , while Ah am sitting, with you." Rogue slapped pale yellow butter on what had to be her third piece of bread- but she was hungry and honestly, who was counting?

"Come on now," Remy tilted his head to the side, wide red and black eyes aglow. "Dis is supposed to be fun." He grinned at the lady in front of him. Dang she looked good- green really was her color.

"It's an over glorified costume party." Her knife landed on the table with a plunk. "I don't do costumes."

"You're a Goth. Ain't that the same thing?" Real cocky, he leaned back in his heavy wooden chair.

Her glare sired his skin. "Tonight, while you're not looking, Ah'm going to set fire to that dirty trench coat of yours." _Can't believe he actually took that thing off_.

"Thought you might think of dat- don't worry chère, it's well hidden." His wink received a cold scowl. She threw a piece of bread at him, and fumed all the more when he caught it in his mouth with a sly grin.

Disgruntled, she sneered. "Ah wish you were the one getting killed off tonight."

_Clink Clink Clink!_

The Professor tapped a knife against his glass. He smiled, tenting his fingers. He sat at the head of the table, on the end farthest from the four. The room simmered to a silence, with the exception of a few knives clanking against butter dishes and left over giggles.

"Good evening students," A light half smile covered his face. "I'm very pleased you all join us for tonight's festivities." He glanced over the crowd.

_Like we had a choice,_ Rogue puckered. _It was this or DR sessions with Logan._ This kind of goofy nonsense was not her thing- any kind of goofy nonsense, was not her thing.

Kitty tucked chocolate hair behind her ear. She could tell Rogue was loathing this, so she suppressed her smile. This was totally an awesome party idea- she would so have to plan her own when she went home for break.

But then again, maybe not- Rogue did not have the patience to endure another one of these.

"As you know, tonight, you will be solving a mystery," The prof glanced again over the teens. "You may work in teams of two, use of powers is prohibited." He smiled. "You will be expected to collect clues in order to back up your allegations. The winners of this little endeavor will receive-"

The lights went out, the room flashed jet black. Teens gasped. Gunshots (obviously balloons being popped- probably by Logan, who would do any remedial task to avoid the actual hoopla- Rogue rolled her eyes) sounded in two loud bangs. The Professor let out a yell. The girls in the room shrieked- piercing, loud, annoying little yells. Kitty jumped; Piotr placed a warm, reassuring hand over hers. She relaxed, dark blush setting in her cheeks. The lights snapped back on.

The Professor slumped over in his wheelchair. Two crimson splotches stained his pressed white shirt.

"Oh my gosh!" Amara cupped her hand over her mouth, Jean pulled crimson nails through her red hair, and Jubilee winced.

"He's not really dead." Rogue snapped.

Storm stepped through the heavy double doors. "I will be putting you all into pairs, according to your seating,"

Jean with Scott, Bobby with Jubilee, blah, blah, blah, all the way down the line until… "Piotr with Kitty, and…"

_No, no, no_, Rogue bit her lower lip.

"Rogue and Remy, and-"

Rogue looked mildly horrified. _This could not get much worse._

"Alright," Storm said, after everyone was paired off. "Let the games begin."

_Ah didn't even get to eat,_ Rogue huffed. She turned to Remy, a wide grin on his face.

**A/N: Off we go=) thought I'd do an October/ Halloween inspired story, so mystery- comedy combo sounded like fun. I must confess though, there will be more comedy than mystery. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!**


	2. And He's Not Really Sleeping Either

**A/N: I do not own X-Men Evolution**

A scowl soured Rogue's porcelain face. Arms folded, discontented line in her mouth, she observed Remy prod around 'the body'. He reached down, poking the Prof in the chest a couple of times.

"Don't do that!" Rogue swatted his hand away. "He's not actually dead!"

Remy chuckled at her irritated state. "_Non_, but Remy thinks he _is_ sleeping." Angry red blush rose in her cheeks- he laughed all the more. She rolled her eyes.

"So what do you see Sherlock?" Black gloved hands planted themselves on her narrow hips.

"Bullet wounds- but no holes." He said, pretending to thoroughly examine the pretend corpse.

"Oh ha-ha." Rogue shoved him out of the way. She looked from the Professor to the table, then back. From the inside pocket, the corner of a tiny, grayish scrap of paper poked out. Gingerly, she slid the page from the professor's still body.

_Well done Rogue._

"_Mehhh_," she jumped when she heard the Professor's voice in her head. "You're supposed to be _dead_." She hissed.

_You said it yourself, it's only pretend._ Almost unnoticeably, he smiled- just a tiny bit at the corners of his lips.

Remy stared at her for a moment after her strange outburst.

"He's not asleep," she muttered. Back to the paper- messy jagged letters etched the thick stationary. A tattered, torn edge lined the top, making a diagonal line. It read simply: _6 13 15 4 2_

Remy sighed. "Sounds like a good enough place to start," he started up the stairs.

"How do we even know what room is important?" she whisper hissed, trampling up the stairs behind him.

He turned for a moment to face her, a knowing smile on his face. "Trust Remy, I know dis clue."

"Don't bet your life on it," she muttered. A frown overtook his smirk. "It's just a bunch of numbers. It could mean anything!" Her skeptical look turned defensive.

"Chere, if dis is ever gonna work, we gotta act like a team," His eyebrows rose. "What do you say?"

_**Elsewhere**_

Red tassels shifted with her every move; she chewed her scarlet lower lip. Pages, bios for the cast of mutant teens crunched in her palms: Jubilee, a jazz singer, Bobby, a kid working on the docks and amateur boxer (Kitty rolled her eyes at that one); herself, a flapper and reasonably well behaved party girl. Then there was Remy, a dealer at a local speak easy, Piotr, an aspiring artist, Rogue, a high class heiress. Nothing really out of the ordinary.

"Hmmm…" Kitty pursed her lips, flipping through a little faster. "This isn't helping very much."

Head tilted to the side, Piotr glanced over another few sheets. "The Professor," his brow furrowed. "He was a retired undercover detective," he slid Kitty the bio.

She studied the sheet. "Retired detective, art collector, rumored gambler," she murmured. _Isn't that a little hypocritical?_

"Perhaps it would help to look at who has a motive?"

A small smile tugged at the edges of her lips. she flicked through the papers, pulling out the potentially shady figures. "Bobby, who also has a gambling problem, is known to cheat, and doesn't do well with losing."

"Revenge for a bad deal," Pete nodded.

"Remy, the dealer." She set the paper down.

"Highly doubtful," Pete smirked. "Remy has trouble not bragging about his criminal conquests."

Snickers rattled her chest- he did have a point. "Tabby, who did quite a bit of time for thievery- currently a bar tender." She flipped through a few more pages. A frown came to her face. "Scott, a wealthy New Yorker and polo player. Rumored to own or have stake in a speak easy." She yanked out the next page. "Jean Grey- wealthy socialite, aspiring actress. Rumored to be having an affair (possibly engaged to Scott Summers)."

Piotr nodded. "All very possible candidates," he glanced over the pages in front of him. "So where would you like to start?"

She sighed. "We'll try Bobby," She pulled at her tights. "To rule him out first," it was highly doubtful Bobby would be smart (or quiet) enough to be the killer. He would have gone running his mouth the second he found out he got to commit murder; but just in case by some miracle he did, they had to check it out- and besides, she had a gut feeling about this, and, as a girl, she had to go with her instinct.

"Bobby it is," he swept a chocolate piece of hair behind her ear. _Swoon. _Her heart rate tripled as his hand retracted. His warm smile made her insides melt a little bit. Blush filled her crème cheeks.

"So like," She let out a nervous giggle, "To Bobby's room?" She jesked out from the library table.

"To Bobby's room."

**A/N: Hello everyone=) just thought i ought to mention that I do not have _any_ experience in writing mysteries- so that element of the story: probably not going to be so great. That being said, I still hope you are enjoying it! please review!**


	3. The Watson To My Holmes

**A/N: I do not own X-men: Evolution**

_Why am Ah tip-toeing_? Rogue relaxed in her shiny black heals.

"Will you do da honors chèrie?" Remy gestured to the door.

"You can open the dang door yourself." Her arms folded over her chest. "Ah'm a lady."

"Coulda fooled me," he grunted under his breath.

"Excuse me?" she huffed. An innocent, wide eyed look on his face, he shrugged. "Ah don't even know what we're doing up here."

He smiled- the way one smile's when they pity someone else's ignorance. In a fluid motion, the brass knob turned. _Click. _The heavy door lurched open. Remy's smile grew to one of pride and dignity.

Rogue scootched toward him; she leaned closer to him like she was doing a side bend.

"This is the professor's office."

"Yes," Remy wandered proudly to the center of the beige room. "Yes it is." After an odd pause, and plenty of skeptical staring, he rolled his eyes- apparently exasperated beyond belief. He pointed behind him like the two of them were playing charades.

"It's a safe."

"Bingo!" He tapped his nose franticly. "A safe…" He strode over to the heavy grey box, turning the dial on the front "Dat has been place here specifically for tonight's festivities." Pop- the door swung open; a cocky smirk registered on his face.

She spun an unenthused index finger in the air. "Whoo-hoo Sherlock," her hip popped to the left side. "You want a cookie?"

"I like peanut butter," He winked.

She scowled. "You're a real piece of work you know that?"

"Art, chère, art."

She rolled her eyes.

"Green's a good color for you." Suddenly, a playful glint lit his eyes. Hot, lava red blush funneled to her pale cheeks. His smirk grew at the flustered look on her pretty face. "It would make a good trade," he leaned closer, "For all dat dark angry garb."

Blush deepening, she put out a venomous glance. "Are we going to take what's in the safe or not?"

Slowly, with careful, skilled hands, Remy guided the single item from the safe, coaxing it toward him. He held the leather bound booklet in his hands.

"It's a journal." Rogue said.

"Gee Watson, you sure are getting good at dis mystery solving thing," a snide grin brimmed at his cheeks. Anger boiled up under her skin, her pours, her mouth.

But, before she could snap at him, he stealthily snatched her hand, "Just playing chèrie." Bringing it to his lips, he kissed her knuckles.

She smacked his cheek (not too hard, lest he complain about it the rest of the night, but enough to teach him a lesson).

"Ouch," he rubbed the spot her gloved hand violently caressed.

"You gonna open that or just stand there and stare at me all night?"

"You wanna know what I'd prefer?" He winked. No matter what she did, she couldn't get rid of that smug grin. Blush, a bright strawberry pink, a little lighter and more prepared than before, rose in her face. _What am Ah gonna do with that swamp-rat?_ She yanked the book from his hands, eager to change the subject.

"They had way to much time on their hands," she murmured, referring to the Professor and Storm, the planners of their lovely evening. Crinkled, slightly yellowed pages crunched, turned under her fingers. "Where do we start?" Eyes slightly wider, she looked up at him. Strands of breezy white hair slipped from behind her ear, into her fair face.

Remy shrugged. "Why you looking at me?"

"You're an ex-con. Isn't it in your job description to know this kind of stuff?"

He rolled his eyes. "I resent that." Taking the booklet back from her, he flipped to the very end of the written in pages. "Start at da back- da most recent." He said, matter of factly.

"See," She said with a big sarcastic smile. "You do know what you're talking about," she clapped her hands under her chin like a kindergarten teacher.

"I'm going to ignore that," his eyes never left the book, skimming through the last three pages or so. "You can thank me later."

"Wait!"

"What?" Remy, hand on the door, turned back to her. "Let's go. Time is of da essence."

"How do you know where we're going?" She rested her hands on her hips. "You looked at it pretty quick."

"You asked Remy to do it, so Remy did," He chuckled, gesturing toward the book on the desk. "You wanna look, den go ahead."

She just chewed her lip- debating.. She really didn't care if she offended him, he knew she had trouble trusting him. The issue here was time.

"Trust me chère."

She released her lip. "Fahn. Where are we off to Mr. Holmes."


	4. OMG! It's Just Like Clue!

**A/N: I do not own X-Men Evolution**

Kitty skittered in front of Bobby's door, Pete a step behind, _she is quick, for one so small_. He smiled, just a little, as she burst through the door, commanding as much authority as she knew how.

"Oh my gosh!" She gasped, covered her face with her hands.

"It was Miss Scarlet, in the Dining Room, with the candlestick." He snapped his newspaper taught, flipping to the sports section. "Or was it the revolver?" He looked toward the ceiling, like it was an incredibly burdensome question; and then he shrugged and went back to the paper.

"Logan?" Her hand slapped over her chest. "What are you doing here- in Bobby's room?" The idea seemed so ludicrous to her she almost twitched.

"I'm in hiding," He grunted, too prideful to let the words come from his mouth clearly. "I figured this was the last place anyone would want to be."

Kitty rolled her large blue eyes. "You can chill in my room Wolvie- I'm totally not guilty." She rolled her eyes again with a little shrug, punctuated with a bright smile, just to emphasize the point.

"Aren't you the flapper?" Logan stared at her.

Kitty looked down at her outfit; when she looked back up, she fought to keep the _duh_ look off her face. _What does that have to do with anything?_ "Yes," Confused, she wrinkled her nose and tilted her head.

"Doesn't that mean _everyone_ is going to want to be in your bedroom." He said it more like a statement than a question.

Jaw, to the floor. Horrified, after a one second pause, she turned to Pete. "Why does everyone keep saying stuff like that?"

Logan snickered and exited the room. An amused smirk worked its way to Piotr's face.

"Pay them no mind Katya," he said. "They think they are amusing. You know you are not this way yes?"

She nodded.

"Then there is no need to worry,"

His tooth paste commercial ready smile made her want to swoon- all he needed was the digitally enhanced _ding_.

Posters of Bobby (his head, photo shopped on a body that obviously wasn't his) boxing hung on the walls. Fake newspaper clippings (again, totally photo shopped) littered the desk. Receipts from his gambling endeavors- at least six- were sprawled out in a wrinkled pile. Even a prop pair of worn vintage gloves hung on the back door.

_The prof was really into this,_ Kitty poked at the worn red leather gloves.

They fanned through the room, quickly but carefully.

"Nothing incriminating," Kitty murmured. She frowned- it would have been nice to see them pretend to haul Snowball off. "Unless we charge him with sloppiness in the first degree." She flopped down on the bed, ignoring the slur of messiness around her.

"What about this?" Piotr picked up a crinkled piece of paper, torn down the side- not particularly menacing, but there were digits along the bottom. "It looks like a phone number,"

"What if it's not a prop?" She looked over the numbers. Her brow furrowed.

"You honestly think he could get someone's number?" He cocked his brow, a smile pulling at his lips.

"You're right." She leaned back over the number, not needing to mull it over. "Do you have a cell?" (she couldn't squeeze one into her tiny dress).

He pulled his phone from his pockets. Numbers glowed under her nimble, manicured fingers. It rang a few times, then cut to voice mail.

"_This is professor Xavier for information regarding my private investigating services, please call my business line. Thank you."_

"He was looking for a P.I." Kitty handed the phone back to Pete. (I know there were no cells in the 20's. Relax, roll with it.)

"I think we need to check up on the professor."

**A/N: I know this chapter is really really short. Sorry guys! There should be another one coming up shortly! Thanks for reading=) Please review!**


	5. Another One Bites the Dust

**A/N: I do not own X-Men Evolution**

Kitty scampered out the door; Piotr followed. The halls buzzed with kids trying to solve the set up (un) murder. The gears in Kitty's head turned- dangerous, I know.

_Why would Bobby need a PI?_

Wham!

Kitty ran into Rogue at the Bottom of the stairs, neither of them paying attention.

"Ow," Kitty rubbed the part of her cranium that knocked into Rogue's. _That girl really does have a hard head._ "Where are you guys going?"

"We just ran down to the kitchen," Rogue rolled her eyes. "Apparently someone can't function on an empty stomach."

"You owed me a cookie!" Remy grumbled, already disgruntled that they only had oatmeal raisin and unfrosted sugar.

Rogue folded her arms over her chest. It really didn't matter who won or who lost- she just wanted someone to solve this so they could all stop the charade. "Where are you going?"

"To examine the body," Kitty said. They all wrinkled their brows- it was an odd phrase to hear one's self saying. _Note to self: never become a mortician_. She shuddered. "And gather our wits,"

"Know anything?" Remy asked, sincere in his casual manner.

Kitty folded her arms over her chest, not believing the question was quite so innocent. She was so not handing over her win the spirit of goodwill and friendship. No way. She glared.

"Bobby is looking into hiring a PI- the professor," Pete responded freely. "And you?"

"Is this cheating?" Rogue sighed. Again, not that she really cared, but if they were going to go through with this they might as well do it legitimately.

Remy shrugged. "Da only real rule was no powers." He looked back at Pete. "We just know dat da Prof was about to make a break in some case he was working on undercover- sounded high profile."

"Thank you, comrade" Pete nodded.

"Do you think anyone is close?" Rogue looked around- everyone was running around, inspecting plants, examining door knobs, staring at each other with shifty, suspicious glances. Everyone wanted that prize- even though no one had any idea what it was.

"Dese simpletons?" Remy tilted his head toward Jamie- who was scanning the roots of a fake ficus. "No."

Kitty's hand wandered over to the Professor's undead corpse. She scrutinized it- like Monk or that hilarious guy on Psych would. Nothing out of the ordinary, really- except that he was wearing spats. Her mind wandered off, drifting through various lines of _Some Like It Hot_. She shook off the day dream and looked closer.

Two crimson, splotchy stains marked his shirt, one on the chest, one on the abdomen. Along the collar, though, a thin, almost crayon like smudge marked a curved line. She tilted her head, squinted at it.

She glanced at the table, then did a double take. The place card- it had a quote, scrawled across the bottom in tiny green italics. _Green? That doesn't even match…_ She picked up several place cards, all with different, but familiar quotes at the bottom. She set them back on the table, in their proper places.

_Where have I read these before?_

"Dooo… Any of you have your invitations?" Kitty looked back at her friends, who were still discussing clues. They raised skeptical brows at her odd request. Remy fumbled through his many pockets, in search of the almost meaningless, albeit craftily assembled piece of cardstock.

Then the lights went out again. Another balloon popped. The lights flickered back on.

"I've been hit!"

The four looked at each other.

"Bobby!" They said in unison. They scrambled up the stairs, to find the crowd gaping over Bobby's body, strewn (rather dramatically) across the floor of the hall.

_No need to feel alarmed._

"Meh!" They all jumped at the telepathic voice leaving messages in their heads.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Rogue yelled without moving; she scowled. The rest of the teens nodded in agreement- it wasn't doing him justice, to just break out of character like that.

_I am only letting you know, that these murders coincide- you will be solving both._

"Ah did not sign up for a double homicide." Rogue popped her hip. This was getting more ridiculous by the second.

_This should actually be helpful to you- a clue, or gift, as it were. Jubilee, you may join the group of your choosing. Carry on._

The teens looked at each other, then flocked to Bobby's room- except for four, who hovered over the second 'victim'.

Rogue exhaled- well, at least it was Bobby who they got rid of. She chuckled to herself, receiving a few very awkward glances.

"Oh just examine the body!" Wow. That was a weird phrase.

**A/N: Hello again=) Another short chapter… and yet, the plot thickens! (insert maniacal laugh here) Stay tuned! More to come soon! **


	6. Sleuth Loops and Gatsbyo's

**A/N: I do not own X-Men Evolution**

"Why would they want to kill Bobby?" Kitty murmured.

"Why wouldn't they want to kill Bobby?" Rogue spat. Kitty nodded.

"Hey!" Bobby lifted his head. "You know I'm not actually dead right?"

"Yes," They said in unison. Kitty's hand lifted for a high five, which Rogue graciously declined.

Remy kicked him in the side- just a little with the tip of his toes.

"Ow!" Bobby grunted.

"Frosty, aren't you supposed to be dead?" Gambit chuckled.

"Yes," A stupefied look took over his face.

"Den start acting like it," He held the laughter inside.

The scene was a little lackluster- just Bobby lying around in the hall pretending to be dead; wet paint smell still wafted from the blotchy red patches on his shirt. Kitty wasn't sure that that shirt hadn't been particularly clean to begin with- _he probably just wanted to be a dock worker so he could be dirty. Gross._ But there was a familiar crayon like stain near the collar of his shirt.

"Easy on the goods," Bobby winked at her as she ran a finger along the stain.

"You're a pig." She sneered. "I'm glad they shot you point blank."

"How did you know that?"

Kitty bit her lip, not willing to fork over more information than she already had.

"Shut up and pretend to be dead," Rogue snapped. "There was no point in killing you if you're just going to be annoying in the afterlife too."

"Did you guys witness this?" Bobby said, indignant. "If I ever do really end up murdered, you know where to send the police."

"We'd be da accessories," Gambit muttered under his breath.

A horrified expression overtook Bobby's features. A tiny, wee little smile came up on the edges of Rogue's lips. If there was a single thing the two could agree on, it was there mutual distaste for Bobby. And Scott. And Jean. _Wow. We have more in common than Ah thought._ Shudders ran through her.

Bobby had nothing on him- no particular information of any sort. Nothing but a few gambling receipts and a pair of thick, metal rimmed, Coke bottle glasses, which Kitty quickly confiscated.

"Do you still have that invitation?" She tapped at the fat glass in the rim. Metallic reddish tint coated the outside.

Remy shuffled through his pockets again, handing her the piece of cardstock.

Kitty examined the paper.

"What is it?" Rogue cocked a brow at her.

Kitty smirked- a peculiar little smirk; the kind of smiley smirk that indicated she knew something they didn't; the smirk she'd gotten so frequently from everyone else. _Look who's smirking now._

"To the library!" She said with a hand in the air. She felt like a real detective or something. If it didn't entail using the words 'examine the body' on a regular basis, she totally might have considered making it a career option. It was very awesome, none the less.

Remy took back the sheet of paper, examined it. A smirk, similar to Kitty's, lit his face. "To the library."

Pete shrugged at Rogue, and followed the pair of aspiring sleuths to the library. Why was she so out of the sleuth loop?

_**To the Library!**_

"I totally can't believe you didn't catch this, Rogue," Kitty whispered, letting the smirk twinge her voice, just a little bit. "You're the one who's all into literature." Remy and Kitty milled through the shelves of the fiction section.

A sullen, bitter chuckle escaped Rogue's lips.

"Got it," Remy pulled a book off the shelf, dusted it off. He blew on the pages so that they fluttered and powder puffed out on the other side.

"_The Great Gatsby_." Kitty smiled triumphantly. She held the invite like a trophy. "See, the place cards all had a bunch of quotes on them- and they all came from F. Scott Fitzgerald." She grinned. "And on the invitation- there's the picture of the gat, as in gats-by." She pointed at the little picture of the gun. "And the daisy at the bottom, and the eyes with the glasses," Kitty stared at Rogue like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You would notice that," Rogue frowned. "Ah barely even glanced at that thing."

"And the glasses in Bobby's pocket," Remy smiled. "Owl Eyes,"

Kitty tapped her nose like they were playing charades. "How insightful of you Remy. Wasn't that insightful of him?" She turned to Rogue. Okay, so it was a very blatant hint. So what? Rogue was one of those people that needed a little bit of a nudge. Or a shove. Whatever.

Rogue scowled. Okay, she had to admit. He was pretty good at this.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Pete broke the awkwardness.

"Whatever clue the Professor planted here." Kitty said.

"Got it," Remy plucked a piece of paper, folded in quarters, from the center of the novel. He unfolded it slowly, the rest of them hovered around him, watching and waiting like this was the academy awards.

"It's blank," His brow furrowed.

"WHAT?" Kitty burst, snatching the paper out of his hand. "IMPOSSIBLE!"

A satisfied almost smile hugged Rogue's face. The universe had righted itself.

"I don't understand," Remy frowned.

Kitty was on the verge of hyperventilating. She was so sure she had this clue figured out.

"Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed. She snapped open the goofy looking glasses and put them over her eyes.

"Nice look Chaton, it works on you." Remy snickered.

"Oh shut up. You won't be saying that when we win."

"Nope. I'm pretty sure I will." He chuckled.

Kitty, picture of maturity, stuck her tongue out at him. That _really_ improved her image.

Her eyes roamed over the page. Smooth charcoal formed neat cursive letters.

"I totally know who did it!" Kitty squealed.

Rogue rolled her eyes- creature of darkness though she was, she was over the whole 'being in the dark' thing. She just wanted this to be over.

Remy put the glasses over his visage (that was quite a sight. Rogue, sullen sarcastic Goth, snorted)

"Non. Remy don't believe it." He slapped a hand over his heart.

"I know right?" Kitty burst.

"Can we just go get this over with?" Rogue planted her hands on her hips.

"Don't get in a tizzy Chere," Gambit frowned.

"She's just mad because _I know something she doesn't know_," Kitty sang and skipped off.

They all followed, racing down the stairs, back to the dining hall.

**A/N- Gasp! Guesses anyone? I know I've been very vague about most of this- no worries though; it should all come together in the end. Hopefully. Maybe. Please review!**


	7. Coincidence? I Think Not

**A/N: I do not own X-Men Evolution**

"We know who did it!" Kitty said joyfully as she slowed to a halt in the dining room. "Well, I do anyway," She looked at Rogue with an only slightly taunting smile. Rogue sent her a sharp glare.

"Do enlighten us Kitty,"

"Ah!" Everyone jumped when the Professor broke from his fake dead state.

"Can you stop doing that?" Rogue snapped. Xavier just smirked. "Geez."

The rest of the teens filtered in after a telepathic message from the professor.

A triumphant smile glowed on Kitty's face. Total awesomeness. The Professor gave her a nod to proceed.

She breathed out. She debated on taking the dramatic route, or the straightforward one. She went with the dramatic.

"We were all called together to solve this gruesome crime- this terrible, awful, heartless murder,"

"No one really got killed," Rogue quipped. Kitty glared at her, then continued, letting it go because they were friends. And Rogue could totally take her out.

"Which quickly turned into a double homicide,"

"We know!" Logan grumbled from the back of the room with a newspaper rolled up under his arm.

She also glared at him, but seeing as Wolverine could make her life very difficult, she let it go, again.

"To start the solving process, we started with what we knew about our cast of characters,"

"Get on with it!" Bobby called from under a cupped hand.

"Would you let me have my moment?" Kitty screamed. It was Bobby- there wouldn't be any consequences (unless you count Logan giving her a pat on the back). The room hushed. A stunned silence overtook the kids.

"Now," Kitty began pacing. "If I may continue," She cleared her throat. "We started with the bio's- looking at what we knew about our little cast of characters,"

"And we started with da body," Remy cut in.

Kitty rolled her eyes- but he kind of deserved a moment too, seeing as he knew who it was too.

"Which led us to Bobby, compulsive gambler, boxer, and dock worker- a little rough around the edges," She stopped in front of Bobby, who winked and clicked his tongue.

"And us to a safe, holding the Professor's journal," Remy cut in, again.

"Bobby had posters, boxing gloves, a very dirty room," Kitty faked a gagging motion. "And gambling receipts- all from the same place- as well as a phone number for a PI- Professor Xavier,"

"Da professor- who was deep in an undercover, high profile case, according to his journal," Remy added, nodding for Kitty to continue.

"Whoever killed the Professor had it out for Bobby to- coincidence?" She paused. "I think not," She giggled to herself- she had always wanted to say that. "But none of this goes together- unless you have the key," She paused again, for dramatic effect. Most of them were pretty glazed over by now- except for Rogue, who was growing more irritated by the second over not knowing. "The invitation- which led us to the library,"

"With the help of this note," Remy held up the folded piece of paper the pulled from the novel. "And dese glasses, we pieced together what we believe happened tonight,"

"Bobby was a compulsive gambler- continually going to the same speakeasy to place his bets. But there was one receipt that was unaccounted for. So, feeling angry and cheated, he decided to call a private investigator, so he could rat the place out." Kitty started.

"Da Prof went into the place undercover- making bets and the whole nine yards. In his journal, he noted the presence of one very affluent, prominent couple in the community. He gathered up his evidence, and warned them that he was going to close the place down."

"They didn't like that- it would not only confirm the rumors that raged around them, it would ruin their reputations and shut down a fairly decent flow of income," Kitty swiveled to face the other side of the room. "Isn't that right- Jean?"

"And Scott," Remy added with a smirk.

To their credit, neither of them flinched.

"It's all hear say- you have no real proof," Jean said with a disenchanted glance.

Kitty's smirk grew. "Silly Jean," She sauntered over to the Professor, turning up his collar. "What does this look like?"

"Crayon?" Bobby interjected.

Kitty scowled. "No," she snapped. "Jean, can I see your nails?" She examined Jean's crimson fingers. A small chunk on her index fingers was thin, splotchy- like it had been rubbed off. "This, my dears, is nail polish," She narrowed her eyes at Jean. "That's what happens when you buy the cheap stuff." She took Jean's pinky and rubbed it across a napkin, leaving a very similar red, crayon like stain.

The crowd gasped; Kitty smiled like a hero. Jean looked at Scott. Now for the real drama.

"Alright- I did it!" She said, in a very maudlin fashion. "But I did it for us!" She looked over at Scott. "Our reputations were at stake- I wasn't going to sit around in a crummy prison cell over a retired cop and some grubby dock worker."

"Take them away," Kitty clapped her hands. Logan, playing the role of a Dirty Harry type, swept in and hauled them off. The crowds cheer.

"I'm innocent! Innocent I tell you!" Scott cried as they were pulled back into the hall.

"Congratulations, Kitty and Piotr, you've won a week off from DR sessions," Xavier said. It was an odd sight- him clapping his hands together with a pair of 'blood' stains on his shirt.

"What about us?" Remy asked.

"My apologies Remy- there can only be one winner," The Professor sighed.

Remy glowered. At least he'd be with his Cherie though;)

"Let's get this party started!" Bobby called from the back of the room.

And indeed, the party did start. Kitty and Pete celebrated an epic win; Remy even got Rogue to dance with him for a few songs. And to top it all off- Jean and Scott weren't enjoying any of it.

I'd say it was a pretty good night.

**A/N: All's well that ends well=p I'm sad it's over! Not the best ending I've ever formulated- but I figured the Scott and Jean suffering made it okay;) did anyone catch Wolvie's little foreshadow/ "_clue"_ a few chapters back? If you did, props=) I'm considering writing an alternate ending. Maybe. But that's all for now folks!**

**Enjoy your Halloween.**


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